


Open Stakes

by sister_coyote



Series: Open Stakes [1]
Category: Digital Devil Saga, Final Fantasy XII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-08
Updated: 2007-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_coyote/pseuds/sister_coyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be a pirate, you have to have an awful lot of pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Stakes

**Author's Note:**

> So when I'm bored on my commute, or bored in a meeting, or just bored, one of my means of entertaining myself is the Giant Crossover In My Head.  The Giant Crossover In My Head involves taking all the characters I like, regardless of fandom, and transporting them to Ivalice.  (I like Ivalice.)  Hence, for instance, Elena in the Archadian secret police, and Jenna at Draklor, and Zack defecting from the Archadian army, and so on, and so forth....

It was all going fine up until the blond man with the beard won the last of Cielo's money.

Cielo was pretty blase about it, even though he usually was good at cards—partly because he was better with people than most of the rest of the crew, but mostly just because he was absurdly lucky.  "I'm out," he said, cheerfully.

"Sure about that?" the man said, his voice smooth and his fingers ruffling the cards.  Argilla felt the little second-sense tingle, the there-could-be-a-fight-here feeling that everyone developed if they were going to survive long in pirate bars.

"Ja.  Dis game got me for all I'm worth," Cielo said, and Argilla sighed and dropped her forehead into her hands, because that made Heat roll to his feet.

"You expect me to believe," he said, "that you won all those games fairly?"

"Heat—" Cielo said.

"If you're accusing me of something, sir," the man said, "perhaps you'd best make your accusation."  He talked like an Archadian nobleman, which was almost certainly part of what was getting Heat riled.

"Fine," he said.  "You cheat."

Another man rose quietly to his feet, and Argilla sized him up, fast: not especially tall, but of a muscular build, with long black braids and a tense expression.  Beside him, a slim man with an eyepatch faded out of obscurity in the shadows.  For her own part, Argilla reached back under her cloak, to the gun she kept strapped to her back, even in the port.  _Especially_ in the port.

The blond man rose to his feet, earrings glittering.  "I daresay I do not," he said, and his expression remained placid even when Heat lunged forward and clenched his hands in the front of his black shirt, lifting him almost off his feet.

Everybody in the bar backed up as the man with the black braids quietly pulled a spear out from under the table, and the man with the eyepatch drew a gun.  Argilla closed her hand around her gun, and glanced at Serph, who was watching Heat with an expression of icy intensity.  Beside her, she heard Gale sigh, very quietly, and slide his long knife out of its sheath.

"You want to put him down real slow, like," said the man with the eyepatch, his gun trained on Heat's back.  "Or you'll regret it.  'Least I'll regret it.  I hate gettin' kicked out of bars."

The look of smoldering disdain Heat shot toward him wasn't unusual.  The way the man acted entirely unaffected by it, however, was.  If Cielo was their good-luck charm, Heat was their intimidator, and he could usually manage that just fine.  Argilla wondered why Serph hadn't moved; no surprise he hadn't said anything, he spoke rarely enough even on board the _Embryon_ and almost never when off it, but she was surprised he hadn't made any movements . . . .

A slim blonde woman—all in black, like the other three—dropped out of the shadows, and there was Argilla's answer because Serph grabbed her like he knew she was going to do it.  They scuffled a moment and then he had her arm up behind her back and she was spitting curses quite in contrast to Serph's silence.  That gave Argilla time to get a bead on the man with the eyepatch, who didn't miss it.  The look he gave her wasn't a glare, it was a smirk, slim-yellow and glowing, fixed right on her.  "What we have here," he said, "is a good old-fashioned stand-off, my tattooed friends.  Now I think—"

"—I think you should shut up," rumbled an all-too-familiar voice, and Argilla thought, _Damn_.  "All of you."  It was one of Reddas' favorite tricks, going quiet-like to a bar and keeping an eye on things; now he pushed back the hood of his cloak and stood up.  "You know I'll not tolerate this in the port.  If you must have it out, do it elsewhere.  If you can't both be here without a fight, then one of you can leave.  The Seventh Heaven's right down the street—"

Serph made a little motion with his head.  Heat looked like he'd like to argue, but he settled for snapping, "We were just leaving anyway," and shoving the gambler back into his seat.

As they skulked out, Argilla glanced back to see the man with the eyepatch grin, wink, and salute her with his gun.


End file.
